Wash, Spin, Rinse, Spin

So what's it like to sleep in a moving truck? I think Hoss summed it up well when he emerged from the berth in his skivvies, sat heavily in the passenger seat, waved his arms in frustration, and announced "IT'S LIKE TRYING TO SLEEP IN A FUCKING WASHING MACHINE!!"

We arrived a few hours earlier than our drop and parked in a truck stop on I-95 for a nap. At 7am, we grabbed a cup of coffee, then started toward our drop location. Not two miles out, we were pulled over by - dun Dun DUNNN!! - Connecticut DOT. Dammit! Helga's last team lost the license plate a couple of weeks back (the owner has one on order) and in the meantime, we're driving with a cardboard replacement. Which, frankly, is a virtual advertisement to anyone with a summons book. He inspected our logs and documentation, then did a level 2 truck inspection. Helga needs a new license plate light socket, but we got through without any tickets.

We were, however, 20 minutes late for our first delivery, although the consignee didn't seem to give a hoot. ~shrug~

We found a nearby Walmart to park at and whiled away the afternoon by finishing paperwork, moving rarely used items into a large tote secured in the box, and rearranging the sleeper to make food prep more convenient. After dark, we settled down in the bunk to watch a movie on my laptop (the Star Trek prequel) and munch on popcorn. It was nice.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LITTLE BRO!!